To Remember
by Fayre Amore
Summary: Fang and Max are two new kids with dark pasts. Both know that there's something different about them, something that sets them apart. Secrets have a way of making themselves known, even before you know that there IS a secret. What will happen when they find others like them and begin unraveling the mystery that shrouds their lives? Chaos, betrayal, and maybe... a little romance? AU
1. The Beginning of the End

_**A/N Sooo, this is my first chapter fic. Hopefully it turns out pretty good...**  
_

_**Review? :DDD  
**_

* * *

_**Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End**_

_Fire. Raining fire. Running, out of breath, had to get away…_

_ Screams. Who was screaming? Didn't matter, keep running. Don'tStopDon'tStopDon'tStop…_

_ Falling. Blackness. Cold, so cold, always cold… More screams; were those _her_ screams?_

_ "You can run, but I'll always find you Max. I'll always find you."_

_ "Max…"_

_ "Max!"_

"MAX!"

Max sat bolt upright, her screams dying down into gasping sobs. "No no no…"

A warm, caring, _worried_ voice shook her from her terror. "Max, look at me. You can do it. Stop hyperventilating, breathe, just breathe. In, out. In… Out…

Inhale… Exhale. She was okay. No more running… But why had she been running?

_No, don't think about that._ "I'm okay," she whispered, more for her own benefit than her mother's. She hiccupped, and then spoke again, louder this time. "I'm okay, Mom. Really."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Her mom asked. Worry marred her face. It made her look older than her thirty-nine years.

Max shook her head, hiccupping again. "No. I can't remember it." She never could.

"Well, okay. Do you think you can sleep again, or do you want to get some hot chocolate or something?"

"I want to go back to sleep. Thanks, though."

Her mother nodded her head, looking slightly relieved that she was allowed to go back to bed. "Alright. In that case, I'm going back to bed. You're sure you're fine?"

Max nodded her head, then tilted her head up as her mother kissed her cheek. "Goodnight. Sleep tight."

Max smiled at the old phrase, and then finished it. "Don't let the bed bugs bite."

Her mom left, and Max turned over on her side, sighing. She wished that she could remember her nightmares. She always had a feeling of _importance_, almost urgency, after she woke up from one of them. Almost as though there was something she needed to do, something the dream was supposed to tell her.

This dream was different though. She hadn't wanted to say anything to her mom, mostly because she hadn't quite figured it out herself, but she remembered something from the dream this time.

A man's voice. Deep, silky, evil.

Familiar.

Her body went cold with fear as she remembered what the voice had said to her.

"_I'll always find you, Max."_

She took a deep breath and shook her head, trying to shut out the words echoing in her mind.

"_Always find you."_

_ "Find you…"_

* * *

_Beep! Beep! BEEP! BEEP!_

Fang smacked the alarm clock off his nightstand and across his room, where it smashed into the wall, effectively turning it off.

_Whoops._ He dragged himself off of his bed and over the the shattered alarm clock, bending over to begin picking up the pieces, hoping to be able to toss them out and buy a new one before his foster mother noticed it. This was his third one just this week, a new record for him, and Mrs. Allgood would kill him if-

The door burst open and smacked into the wall with a loud _thud!_ Fang jumped up from the floor and put his innocent face on. _Crap, crap, crap…_

"ALEX!" Yep. That was what death sounded like. "Did you break your alarm clock _again?"_

_Would you believe me if I said no? And why do you have to use my real name? _Fang looked down at the obviously broken alarm clock all over the floor and then back up at his foster mother for almost three months. He shook his head innocently.

"Really. Then what, pray tell, happened to it? Did the mischievous fairies of _alarm clocks_ break it?"

_Seriously, where does she get this stuff?_ He shrugged, staring at the clock. She knew he had broken it. Why didn't she just get on with the punishing part of this discussion?

Mrs. Allgood sighed and shook her head. "Honestly Alex. That's the seventh one you've

managed to break since you got here! I'm not buying you a new one. You'll have to come up with the money yourself."

Fang just shrugged again.

"Oh, for heaven's sake. Get ready for school; we're leaving in forty-five minutes. And do try to be a little communicative, alright?"

Fang stared at the wall behind her until she finally shook her head sadly and closed the door. Try to be communicative? Him? That was almost funny.

Yes, he was mute. Not because he couldn't speak physically, but because he couldn't seem to force words past his lips. It was like there was a mental block in his mind. He thought about the last time he spoken, made any noise at all.

'_"No! Mom! MOM! MOMMY! Please!" Alex screamed, his voice echoing off the too-white walls. A nurse moved towards him, to stop him from doing anything rash. The screams and sobs coming from the little boy broke her heart.'_

He shuddered and shook his violently, trying to dispel the images from his mind. Time to focus on the task at hand.

He hated school. With every molecule in his body. Not because he didn't like learning, he actually liked that part somewhat. He didn't like being the new kid, which he usually was. More than that, even, he didn't like the constant stares and whispers of the kids around him, talking about "the poor kid who can't speak and has no family" or, his favorite, "the stupid kid who can't speak and whose family left him for dead."

In his sixteen years of life (that's right, he was legally able to drive now. Watch out-where was he now? Oh yeah-Denver, Colorado!), he'd managed to be passed around to five different foster homes. His record for his longest stay in any one of them was almost two years. That was his first foster home, when he was nine years old and still a cute little kid. Fang had actually liked it there, even –dare he say it?- loved it. That was before his foster parents found out that they were pregnant. Long story short, they had shipped him off to a new home, and he'd learned a valuable lesson: don't get attached.

Getting attached meant caring, and caring meant, inevitably, he would get hurt.

In his next foster home, he got kicked out for biting one of the other kids. Well, not just that, but it was the "last straw," as they had put it. In his defense, Fang was smaller than the other kid-Zeke, if he remembered correctly-, and the guy had been messing with him.

"_Jeez, you've got some fangs attached to you, don'tcha?"_ Zeke had said. They had branded him with the nickname "Fang" after that, and it just sort of stuck.

The adoption agency told him that he was one of the luckier ones. He could remember his parents, could remember just how beautiful his mother had been and how much he'd loved her. He could remember his dad pushing him on the swing set behind his house, wrestling with him on the carpeted floor of the living room.

Fang wasn't lucky, though. He was cursed. Cursed with memories, nightmares… You don't just "get over" watching your parents die right in front of you.

It would be better if he couldn't remember anything.

He slunk over to his-_the-_dresser and pulled out some of the clothes that had been bought for him. He took one look at the shirts and immediately closed the drawer. Yuck. Yellow? Pea-green? Orange? They were trying to dress him like a rainbow!

He pulled his own duffel bag out from under the bed and pulled out his favorite T-Shirt; just a regular black one, nothing fancy. The jeans Mrs. Allgood had bought for him were all right, though he would have liked them a little looser.

Fang sighed and began preparing himself for his first day as a Junior. Look out, world.

* * *

_**So, first chapter! What'd you guys think? Didja like it? Hate it? Love it?**_

_**Tell me in a review :D  
**_

_**Constructive criticism is always welcome, but please, flames are not appreciated.  
**_


	2. Coincidences and Occurences

_**A/N **_**Hello again, my lovely readers! This is chapter two of To Remember. It's slightly a filler chapter, or at least, it's going to seem like just a filler chapter, but it's actually pretty important. You'll see why later. **

**Also, when I put up the first chapter earlier this week, I kind of had absolutely no idea where I was going with this story. Buuuut now I have all these tons of ideas, and I'm super excited :DD  
**

**Disclaimer (which I just realized I haven't been doing): I am not a guy. I'm definitely of the female gender. Therefore, I can not be James Patterson, and can not own MR (sadly)  
**

* * *

_**Chapter 2: Coincidences and Occurrences**_

Max sighed as she walked into Schoefield Highschool (_home of the Schoefield Sharks!). _Cue unnecessary amounts of screaming and cheering. She took a sip of the hot chocolate in her hand and leisurely began making her way to her first period class, Spanish. She still had six minutes before she was officially late to class, and didn't feel the need to hurry any more than she already was. She hated Spanish anyways. Math, on the other hand, she could do any day. Proofs? No problem. Algebraic equations? Easy as pi. (Get it? Pi? Like 3.14… Oh, nevermind.) But conjugating Spanish verbs?

_Uhhh… No comprendo?_

She chuckled at her own joke, but stopped abruptly and froze as she felt the hair on the back of her neck begin to prickle, as if someone was watching her. Very casually, she turned around, trying to make it seem as if she'd just realized that she'd been going the wrong way. She scanned the crowd discretely, looking for anything suspicious. The first few times she'd felt this, she'd blown it off as just her normal paranoia. Now, she wasn't so sure.

* * *

_"Subject A.G.E.#0001 has stopped progression towards first period class. Subject A.G.E#0001 has turned around. Subject A.G.E#0001 is waving. Subject A.G.E#0001 is waving to Subject A.G.E#0004. Subject A.G.E#0001 seems to be friends with Subject A.G.E#0004. Subject-_

_ "Please, you don't have to report every last detail on the subjects."_

_ "Sorry sir."_

_ "Report anything that is important."_

_ "Yes sir."_

* * *

"Max! Max Max Max, guess what!"

"Hello to you too, Nudge."

"Oh, sorry. Hi Max. Guess what!"

Max shook her head and laughed, her earlier fears forgotten for the time being. "Chicken butt?" She guessed.

"Uh, no. That's gross. But look at this!" Nudge handed her a piece of paper folded into the shape of a heart. Max's eyes widened as she took it from Nudge.

"Another one? That's the third one this week!"

Nudge practically wiggled with excitement. "I know! Read it!"

Max smiled and carefully unfolded the piece of paper. "Oooh, your secret admirer is a poet? That, my friend, qualifies as _romantic_. And extremely cheesy."

Nudge rolled her eyes. "Just _read_ it already!"

Max cleared her throat. "Ahem. _'My dearest Monique.' _Dearest? The eighteen hundred's called, they-"

"Shut up! I think it's sweet."

"Of course you do. It's _your_ secret admirer. Now, where was I? Oh. '_My dearest Monique._

_What is love?_

_Love is your smile_

_Lighting up a cloudy day._

_Love is your eyes_

_Sparkling while you laugh._

_Love is your patience_

_For those not as brilliant as you._

_You are love.'"_

Max wiped fake tears away. "Awww. That's so sweet. Although I really hope he doesn't try to be a poet professionally."

Nudge glared at her. "Max! Don't be mean. But look at this part! I think he left a clue."

"Where? Nudge, I don't see- ouch! Hey, watch where you're going!" Max looked up to see a dark haired guy looking down at her. He had a single eyebrow raised, as if to say, "_You were the one not watching where you were going, smart one." _He bent down and began picking up the folders and papers that had gone flying when she rammed into him.

"You don't have to do that. I can pick those up." Max said, suddenly feeling bad. She had, after all, banged into him, and here he was picking up _her_ stuff for her. He looked up at her with a half-smirk before handing her the things she'd dropped, all carefully organized. Then he got up and just… walked away.

Max turned to Nudge, her expression showing pure bafflement. "What…What just happened?"

Nudge shook her head slowly. "I don't know, but he was _hot_."

* * *

_"Um, sir, would it qualify as important if, say, Subject A.G.E#0001 ran into Subject A.G.E#0002? Literally?"_

_ "Wait, what? Already? Yes, that would qualify as important! I'm coming down there."_

* * *

"Alright, everyone _hush!_ I know this is the last period of the day and you are all excited for the weekend, but give me a few minutes to take roll and give you your next assignment!" Mr. Smith looked over his reading glasses, giving the students a look that made them all stop talking almost immediately.

"Logan Allen."

"Oh, um, here."

"Mackenzie Asher."

"Present!"

"Toni Blake…"

And so on. Fang tuned him out after a while, scanning the classroom for a familiar face. A face surrounded by sun-streaked dirty blonde hair, to be exact. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but ever since this morning, when she'd snapped at him for running into her (which he hadn't, that whole incident had been her fault), Fang hadn't been able to get her out of his mind.

"Alexander Ektoras. …Alex? Is Alex here?"

Fang jumped, realizing that that was _his_ name being called. He raised his hand until Mr. Smith saw it, and then resumed his search. He hadn't had any classes with her so far, and was starting to worry that maybe she was in a different grade than him. But no, there was her friend over there in the corner, the pretty one with the curly brown hair. What had the girl called her? Nudge?

He'd just about given up hope of ever seeing her again, when the door suddenly flew open, and in walked the girl with the sun-streaked hair. Her face was flushed, as if she'd been running, and she was holding a slip of paper high in the air.

If looks could kill, she'd be pushing up daisies by now. Mr. Smith was giving her the iciest glare Fang had ever seen. The girl didn't even flinch though, just stared back at him defiantly.

Mr. Smith sighed. "Maxine Rivera. You're late. Again."

"It's just Max. Which I've told you before." Fang filed that into his memory. _Max._ It sounded like it would be a boy's name, but it was perfect for her. "And no, I'm not late. I've got a pass." Now she was glaring. Fang wondered for a moment if she practiced that expression in the mirror, or if it was just natural. She looked downright _scary._

Mr. Smith shook his head. "You've got a pass _this_ time. But that doesn't account for the last six times you've been late, now does it?"

Max shrugged. "All of those have perfectly good explanations. Just… give me a minute to come up with them."

"Well, since you're late, you'll have to take the only empty seat left, over by Mr. Ektoras. Alex, raise your hand for Ms. Rivera."

Fang raised his hand, watching as a grin slowly broke out across Max's face as she recognized him. She sauntered over and gracefully dropped into her seat (note the sarcasm). "Hey, you're the guy who tried to tackle me this morning!"

His eyebrows rose, and without even thinking, he pulled out a piece of paper. '_I'm pretty sure you were the one doing the tackling,' _he wrote.

She smirked. "That's not the way I remember it, but okay."

'_There's a name for your condition, you know.'_

Now she seemed confused. "My condition?"

_'Short-term memory loss.' _

Her jaw dropped, but she looked like she was trying not to laugh. "If I have any sort of head problems, it's from you trying to knock me out this morning!"

_'Or maybe your mother just dropped you on your head too many times.'_

"Alex and Maxine! Since neither of you can manage to pay attention, you two will be partnering up for the next assignment. I've already given the instructions, and it's worth two test grades, so it would be in your best interest to get the directions from another classmate."

"It's just Max," she said, and then smiled sweetly. Fang couldn't decide which was scarier; her too-innocent smile, or her glare.

He decided that he'd just rather not be on the receiving end of either of them.

* * *

_**A/N**_**Okay! I have a slight challenge for you guys: Anyone who can correctly tell me what _Subject A.G.E#0001 _stands for will get a shout out in the next chapter! If you guys can't figure it out, that's okay, because it will be revealed in a later chapter anyways. **

**Also, I'm going to start recommending some of my favorite Fanfiction stories, and I would like it very much if you guys could tell me some of your favorites too. I've kind of run out of things to read at the moment, no one will update :/  
**

**So, my rec for today is my all time favorite Fanfiction story: _Diary of a Lovesick Mutant by Phoenix Fanatic_  
**

**Also, if you guys have any constructive criticism or ideas for my story, those are always loved! This is my first chapter Fanfic, so I'll take all the help I can get :)  
**

******Reviews=Inspiration, and Inspiration=Updates!**  



	3. Forgotten Memory

_**A/N**_**Hey guys! I actually don't really have anything to put here... but I hate to leave it empty...  
**

**Oh wait! I have to do the disclaimer Dx  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own MR. Nada. No ownage.  
**

* * *

_**Chapter 3: Forgotten Memory  
**_

"Okay, so… What project was Mr. Smith going on about today in History?"

"Well Max, if you hadn't been so busy flirting with the new kid, maybe you'd know," Iggy said, smirking in her general direction.

"I'm rolling my eyes, Ig."

They were sprawled out on the floor of Nudge's living room, limbs thrown across each other "like a pile of hippos," as Iggy had so articulately put it. Nudge had then proceeded to throw a cookie at his head for calling her a hippo.

They wouldn't have admitted it, but Max and Iggy were somewhat afraid to touch anything other than the floor. Nudge's dad was some really important rich guy, and his house reflected it. With Max's history of clumsiness and Iggy's habit of blowing things up… well, it was just better to be safe than sorry.

Max shoved Nudge's arm off her forehead. "Anyways, you're just jealous that _you_ weren't the one flirting with him."

Iggy's voice went up about three octaves as he attempted to imitate a preppy girl. 'Attempted' being the key word. "Uh, no. I am _straight._"

Nudge giggled. "Straight as curly fries," she mumbled with a grin.

"Ex_cuse_ me?"

"Guys! The project?" Max broke in.

"Oh yeah. It's really easy. You just have to find out what your partners last name means-mine, which is 'Mirembe', is East African for peace-and something interesting in his or her ancestry." Nudge shrugged. "And then you make some sort of presentation or something, like a poster showing the family tree. Iggy and I are partnered up. "

Max smirked at that, watching as Iggy's cheeks turned a light shade of pink. He hadn't said anything, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Iggy had… more-than-just-friendly feelings for Nudge.

"Well, this could be interesting," Max muttered.

"What'd you say?" Nudge's head lifted up from its spot on Iggy's chest. Iggy looked slightly disappointed.

"Oh, nothing," Max responded with a smile.

She'd only known the two of them for a little over a month, but it felt like forever. Max could already tell that Iggy and Nudge could be one of those "perfect" couples. The problem was, it didn't seem like Iggy was planning on admitting his feelings anytime soon, and Nudge was too caught up with her "secret admire", who could be anyone-it could even be a joke, as cruel as that sounds. A plan started forming in Max's mind, and she grinned evilly to herself. This would be an interesting project indeed.

* * *

**(Time skip to next Thursday morning)**

_"Max, look at me. No- don't look over there, just look at me."_

_ "B-but Daddy-"_

_ "Is fine. He's just fine. Now I need you to listen to me, okay? This is very important."_

_ Seven year old Max stuck her thumb in her mouth and nodded, trying not to look back over at her daddy. He'd been laying on the bed for a long time now… Why didn't he get back up?_

_ "Max, honey, your daddy and I have to go away for a while. You and your sister are going to go stay with your aunt. It's going to be like a vacation! Doesn't that sound fun?"_

_ Max knew enough to realize that this was not going to be like a vacation. She spoke around the thumb in her mouth. "No… I wanna go with you and Daddy. Why can't I?"_

_ Her mother pushed a few strands of hair from Max's forehead. "You can't come with us because I need you to watch out for your sister. You're going to be my big helper, okay? Just for a little while."_

_ Max thought this over, her little chest swelling with pride at thought of her mother needing her help. She nodded, taking her thumb from her mouth and standing a little taller. "Okay. I'll take care of Angel, Mommy."_

_ "Good girl."_

Max woke up breathing heavily, tears filling her eyes. The dream had already started fading into the recesses of her mind, but for the first time, she actually remembered bits and pieces of it.

_Who is Angel?_ She wondered to herself. And the woman in her dream definitely did not look like her mother. So why had she been calling her 'Mommy'? And why did she still feel a… _connection _to the woman, even though it was just a dream?

Max tried to shrug it off. Dreams were not known for making sense. _But it felt so real… It didn't feel like a normal dream…_ She shook her head a little violently, trying to force it out of her mind. At least it hadn't been a nightmare.

She checked the clock on her nightstand. 5:32 A.M. She sighed. She had to get up in half an hour anyways, might as well get up now…

She looked at the clock again. _Or I could get twenty-eight more minutes of sleep._

It wasn't a hard decision.

* * *

Fang carefully sketched the girl's face onto the paper, struggling to recall all the details. He never colored his drawings, but now he almost wished he did, just so he could attempt to capture the color of the girl's eyes. She couldn't have been more than seven or eight, and he didn't know who she was, but lately this girl had been the subject of almost all of his drawings.

He sighed as he finished the last bit of shading. She was looking off to the side in this picture, with her little thumb in her mouth and tears in her eyes, though he got the feeling that she was trying very hard not to cry. On the edge of the paper, where the girl was looking, was an older woman, maybe in her late twenties or early thirties. She was holding a tiny baby, no more than a few months old, and her mouth was open as if she was in the middle of speaking. He didn't know who she was either, and she had never appeared in any of his drawings before.

He winced as the bell rang, shrilly breaking the silence in the art room. The room was filled with the grumbling of students not wanting to leave their favorite class. Fang shoved his sketchbook into his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder, keeping his pencil in his hand so he could twist it through his fingers. It was an old habit of his.

He checked his schedule. History next. He almost smiled as he realized that he'd see Max and Iggy in this class. Iggy talked so much that Fang's muteness was almost unnoticed, and Max… She just understood. He couldn't explain it, but she never looked at him with pity or as if he was some weird creature. He was just a person, albeit a quiet one.

He stuck his hands in his pocket as he walked into the classroom, listening as Nudge chattered about some movie she'd watched the night before. Iggy listened intently, looking completely lovesick. The boy was hopeless.

Yes, he'd only known Iggy for about a week, but when you're mute, you become a lot more observant. Things that most people don't notice become glaringly obvious. And Iggy obviously had a major crush on Nudge.

Fang sat down in his seat and leaned back, knowing that Max wouldn't be there until after the bell rang. He didn't know what she did in between classes, but it would be nothing short of a miracle if she was on time to class. He got the feeling that she was that way about a lot of things.

Sure enough, the bell rang, and about ten seconds later Max burst in, letting the door hit the wall with a _thud._ Everyone had long since stopped jumping and flinching when she did that. It was almost expected.

Mr. Smith just looked at her and sighed, shaking his head. "Glad you could join us, Ms. Rivera. Have a seat."

Max grinned. "And I'm_ so_ glad to be here, Mr. Smith." The sarcasm in her voice was evident.

She fell into the seat next to him. "Hey Fang. What's up?"

He shrugged, and then looked at her questioningly as a response. It was his way of saying, "Not much. And you?" without saying anything at all.

She caught his meaning. "Oh, you know. Making teachers angry, forgetting the all-important homework, falling asleep in Chemistry-same old same old."

He smirked at her and shook his head mock-disapprovingly. She chuckled.

"You're one to talk. Where's _your_ history homework? Hm?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

His eyes widened. They'd had homework? He probably wouldn't have done it anyways, but he didn't usually _forget_, and he had no memory of a homework assignment being given out.

She laughed aloud at his expression. "Relax. I'm messing with you."

"Alex and Max! Why is it that you two are always the one I have to call out for talking in my class? Would _you_ like to teach the lesson?" Mr. Smith asked angrily.

Both shook their heads quickly, knowing that he would actually make them do it. He had before.

_No can do, Mr. Smith,_ Fang thought to himself. _Forgot my lesson plan at home._

* * *

**And, I spent twenty minutes trying to find out if hippos really were the animals that slept in piles. I read way to many hippo articles. That was for you guys -_-  
**

**My story recommendation for today is: _Conundrum by Phoenix Fanatic_  
**

**Review? :D Reviews=Inspiration, and Inspiration=Updates!  
**


	4. Chocolate Chip Cookies

_**A/N Hey, I'm sooo sorry this is so late. I know I'm like two weeks overdue, but I've been really sick recently and I missed a whole week of school, which means TONS of make-up work. Dx And I should be writing two different essays right now, and instead I'm writing this chapter for you guys (which is extra long, by the way, and contains a little bit of Fax :3).  
**_

_**But anyways, the chapter is here now! I hope you like it!  
**_

_**I don't own MR.  
**_

* * *

_**Chapter 4: Chocolate Chip Cookies  
**_

"MAAAAAAX OMG LOOK!"

Max winced as Nudge's high-pitched squeal hit her ears painfully. "Nudge. _Inside voice._ It's a pre-school skill."

"Yeah, but I skipped pre-school. Anyways, look!" She pushed a slip of paper into Max's hand, practically bouncing with excitement. "I _told _you that there was a clue in the last one!"

"You skipped pre-school _and _ninth grade?" Max exclaimed, before the paper in her hand caught her attention. It was another love note, and sure enough, it asked if she had caught the clue he had given her in the last note. Max grinned, Nudge's excitement level elevating hers. "Quick, get out the last note. Do you have it with you?"

"Psh. Of course I do!" She dug it out of her purse and showed it to Max. "I was reading it earlier this morning, and I think the clue is in this line: "_Love is your patience, for those not as brilliant as you."_ He thinks I'm brilliant! Oh, and the year I was supposed to be in pre-school I just didn't go, so I'm only technically a grade above what I should be. Anyways, I think he's hinting at my tutoring, cuz, you know, I tutor other students after school, and I think he might be one of the kids I tutor-This is just like this book I read, where-"

Max cut her off, rolling her eyes and trying not to laugh. Nudge's train of thought was a thousand different places at once, at all times. "Okay, do you have a set amount of students that you tutor, or is it just whoever needs tutoring?"

"I have a set amount. Right now I'm tutoring Monica, Mackenzie, and Jacob on Mondays; Dylan, Kyle, and Jenna on Wednesdays; and Lissa, Ethan, and Chris on Fridays. We can probably check the girls off of the list."

Max nodded. "Okay, that leaves Jacob, Dylan, Kyle, Ethan and Chris. Jacob is dating Jenna, so that puts him off the list."

"So Dylan, Kyle, Ethan, and Chris are left."

"Yeah… Or, it could be someone you've tutored in the past, or just once or twice."

Nudge groaned. "But that's like, most of the eleventh grade, and half of the tenth! This is hopeless."

"What's hopeless?" A tenor voice came from directly behind the two girls.

Nudge and Max both jumped, startled, and spun around to see Iggy standing behind them with an evil grin on his face. "Don't-_do_-that!" Nudge said through clenched teeth. Iggy just laughed and repeated his question.

"So, what's hopeless?

Max looked at Nudge, leaving the decision of whether or not to tell him up to her. Nudge sighed. "I keep getting these notes from a secret admirer, and he left me a clue, something to do with my tutoring, but we can't figure out who it is."

Iggy's sightless eyes widened just slightly, but enough for Max to see. "Ah. I see." Was that jealousy she saw? It disappeared too quickly for Max to be sure.

Nudge nodded dejectedly, and Max made a mental note to talk to Iggy the next time she had a chance. But for now, the bell had rung, and it was time to go to class.

* * *

"Alright! Before you guys leave, I just want to remind you that your projects are due next Wednesday, which is a week from tomorrow! I'm sure you've all been working _so_ hard on these projects, so I'm expecting excellent grades!"

Max glanced over at Fang, about to ask him when they were going to start working on their project (because they'd already wasted a whole week), but stopped when she saw what he was doing. He wasn't paying attention, that was for sure. Instead, he was drawing- a little girl, about six years old, wearing ragged, ripped up clothing and sporting a dark bruise on her cheek. Despite all that, she had an impish grin on her face. Max found herself staring at the picture, unsure of who it was but feeling as if she _should _know. The child seemed to be looking at someone that the drawing didn't show, maybe a co-conspirator. A brief image of the baby from her dream the night before last flashed through her mind. _Angel…_

Fang snapped his sketchbook shut and turned to peer at Max, an eyebrow raised in question. She blinked in surprise. "Sorry, I just didn't know you could draw like that, you're really good, but I was going to ask when we were going to start working on our project, and-"

She closed her mouth, internally grimacing at her word vomit. She sounded like Nudge.

A smirk started in the corner of his mouth, but it quickly disappeared and he pulled out a piece of paper. He scribbled something onto it, and then passed it to her.

_How about after school, my house?_

Oddly enough, her heartbeat picked up a bit before she realized that he meant to work on the project. _What am I thinking? I can't have…feelings…for him! I've never even heard his voice!_ She inwardly scolded herself and looked up, nodding. He studied her curiously for a few seconds before turning to face the front.

Though she would never admit it, to _anyone_, Max was looking to working on this project.

* * *

"_Any updates on the subjects?_

"_Yes and no, sir. We believe that Subject A.G.E#0002 may be…reacquiring, for lack of a better word, his abilities."_

"_Already? But… that's not supposed to happen yet. How have you come to this conclusion?"_

"_Well sir, it's not exactly a conclusion yet, because we're not quite sure. But he does seem to be showing signs."_

"_Well… keep an eye on it. We'll bring in reinforcements if the need arises."_

"_Yes sir."_

* * *

For once in her life, Max was speechless. That did not happen very often. As in, _ever._

She'd never pegged Fang as a rich kid, though. Though she'd never actually thought about it, she now realized that she'd assumed he'd had a hard life. Obviously, she was mistaken.

They didn't happen very often either.

She watched as Fang smirked at her wide-eyed expression. She looked up, and her jaw dropped. The ceiling was a mirror! How flipping-awesomely-cool was that?!

She scanned the rest of the room, trying not to stare. They were standing in the foyer, unless she was mistaken. Pronounced _fwa-yey. _Because it was _French._

The floor was marble, and she could just imagine how fun it would be to sock-slide across it-_no, bad Max, be civilized. _A grand staircase led up to the second floor, and a crystal chandelier hung from the mirrored(!) ceiling. And Max was pretty sure that the statue in the corner was made of gold.

"Holy _fudge_ man…What do your parents _do_ for a living? Is your dad like, the vice-president or something?"

Fang just shook his head and rolled his eyes, flipping his black hair arrogantly before motioning for her to follow him. She did so, feeling a bit like a lost puppy.

They entered the living room. Max was happy to see that the couches were not leather, as she'd expected them to be. Leather was extremely uncomfortable. These people were rich _and _smart.

A pretty blonde lady looked up as they walked in. Surprise registered on her face as she saw Max standing there. Max cleared her throat at the awkward silence that filled the room.

Since Fang was obviously not going to introduce her, Max decided to take the initiative. She stepped forward. "Um… hi. I'm Max, Fang's friend. I'm guessing that you're his mother?"

She seemed to hesitate, almost as if she was unsure of the answer, before slowly nodding her head. "Yes… you can call me Mrs. Allgood. Oh! Are you here to work on the History project?"

"Yeah, I'm Fang's partner."

Mr. Allgood nodded, and the awkward silence returned. Then she seemed to brighten. "Are you two hungry?"

Max smiled. "Ma'am, I'm _always _hungry."

She laughed, a bright, real laugh. Max liked her already. "Of course you are. Ale-ahem, Fang is the same way. What would you like?"

Fang "spoke" up. Or rather, signed. A few brief hand gestures, and Mrs. Allgood was nodding. She turned back to Max. "You like chocolate chip cookies?"

Max nodded her head vigorously. "I could live off of them. And that's not a joke."

There was that laugh again. Fang's mother nodded and turned towards the kitchen. "Alright then. You two get all set up, and I'll start on the cookies."

She disappeared through a door, and Max immediately rounded on Fang. "You know sign language?"

He nodded, once. Typical.

"Why didn't you tell me that? I know sign language!"

He looked surprised, and then signed something to her. _How do you know sign language?_

_My mother taught me. Her brother was deaf, which is why she knew, and she thought it was a good skill to teach us._

_Your mother is a smart woman._

Max nodded and smiled, before frowning as something occurred to her. "Hey… how did you know that I love chocolate chip cookies?"

Fang frowned, and then shrugged. _You must have told me, _he signed to her.

Max shook her head. "I don't remember telling you."

_Maybe you forgot._

She looked doubtful. "Yeah… maybe."

* * *

_**A/N And there you go! So, it was more one-sided Fax, but hey. Fax is Fax :P**_

_**Rec for today is: Moments by ivyflightislistening **_

**_Review? Maybe? :D_**


	5. And The Plot Thickens

_**A/N **_**Hey guys! Long time no see! I am so sorry about that, I've been drowning in homework and make up work and illnesses Dx**

**But enough of my excuses, on with (extra long) chapter! :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own MR :(**

* * *

_**Chapter 5: And The Plot Thickens**_

"So. Your house."

Fang peered at Max quizzically, not understanding what she was she was getting at. She sighed in frustration.

"Your _house. _It's like, _huge._"

He seemed to think about this before giving her a one-shouldered shrug by way of response.

She pursed her lips in thought, trying to get more of a reaction out of him. Usually, Max was very good at getting people to react, using whatever methods she had at her disposal. (Annoyance just-so-happened to be her favorite. But for some reason, she didn't think that it would have any effect on him.) The silent treatment never worked on her, not with anyone else at least. Fang was different. She had a sudden mental image of him as a robot. Or a drone. Fang2-D2. **(A/N Catch the reference?)** She held back a snicker. "Well… your mom is really nice."

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She flopped onto the couch and sighed in defeat. "Alright, fine. We should probably get started on this project. Where's your computer?"

He held up his index finger, signaling for her to wait. Disappearing for a few seconds, he quickly came back with a sleek, black laptop. It looked expensive. _Very _expensive. As in, the kind of expensive that usually ended up irreparable after being in Max's hands. Electronics and Max just didn't get along. She eyed it warily, and then raised her eyebrows at Fang. "Are you sure your mom will let us use her laptop?"

A smirk flitted across his features as he set the laptop down on the coffee table. _It's mine_, he signed to her.

Luckily, Max had gotten a hold of her facial features and was able to stop herself from showing any reaction to his statement. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction, stubborn as she was. She nodded once and turned on the laptop, going to the internet search engine. "Alright… so your last name is Allgood. What-"

He quickly cut her off, shaking his head. "What?" she asked.

His face was expressionless by anyone else's standards, but Max could see in the way that his jaw was slightly clenched, and the slight crease in between his eyebrows, that this subject was something that pained him. She didn't know how she could tell, as she'd only known him for a couple weeks and wasn't the most observant person in the world, but she could. _My last name is not Allgood, _he signed to her, looking everywhere except at her.

She leaned back, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. "But your mother's last name-"

He shook his head again, slowly. _She's not my mother, _he signed, and sighed gently. Hesitantly, onyx eyes looked up and met her brown ones. The rest of his face showed no emotion, but his eyes… Max suddenly understood why people called them "windows to the soul." She could almost feel the pain roiling around in those black depths.

"So then… Who is she?"

There was that classic one-shouldered shrug again. _F__oster mother. Three months. _Any emotion that Max thought she saw disappeared as Fang seemed to mentally change the topic. _My last name is Ektoras. And yours is… was it Martinez?_

She jolted back, wondering why the name "Martinez" caused such a reaction in her. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her breath caught in her throat. Her thoughts raced. _Martinez, Martinez..._ What was so important about that name?

"No, not Martinez"-the name felt oddly familiar on her lips-"it's Rivera."

His dark eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, obviously not believing looked at her questioningly and she opened her mouth to reply with a sarcastic comment (of course she was sure about her own last name!), but Fang cut her off. _Sorry, _he signed. _I just don't usually forget… anything._

Max nodded, still looking at him weirdly. "Well… we should probably start on the project…"

He nodded once and sat down next to her.

"I think Ektoras is Greek…"

* * *

Fang didn't know what had gotten into him, telling her all of that. To most people, it didn't seem like much, but he never opened up to anyone at all. For him to even admit that he was in foster care was…well, a big deal for him. Than again, he usually didn't stay in a foster home long enough for him to make any friends _to _admit too.

And he'd been _sure _that her last name was Martinez. He didn't forget things very easily- his mind was almost photographic. He suspected that there was something she hadn't told him though-her reaction to the name was too obvious.

He turned his attention back to the project. They'd found that his last name, Ektoras, was Greek for "resolute" or "strong". He liked that. They'd yet to find out what Rivera meant.

The name sent a slight shiver down his spine, and he tried to shake it off, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably. He didn't know what it was about that name, but it left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was just a name, right?

"Hah!" Max suddenly punched the air, her face triumphant. Fang rolled his eyes at her over-the-top enthusiasm, but hid a smile nonetheless.

"I thought Rivera was Hispanic, but it wasn't showing up on any of the name databases. But, after hours of searching, I finally found it." She smirked smugly. (Say that five times fast.)

He smirked back at her. In reality, it had only been around twenty minutes. But then, she had been dubbed the queen of over-reactions and exaggeration for a reason.

Fang looked at her questioningly, one eyebrow raised, and she got the message. "See, right here. It says, 'Rivera is a common Hispanic surname bestowed on a person who lived on a riverbank.'" She paused, and her face fell dramatically as her shoulders slumped. "Well, that's just great. I come from a line of river dwellers. I have river blood in me. That's…gross." The mental image of having "river blood" inside of her made Max's face scrunch up in disgust.

It started as a small, unavoidable smirk. From there, it slowly grew into a smile, and then a grin, and then a chuckle as this new bit of information, combined with Max's reaction, hit Fang as unbelievably funny. Soon he was full-on laughing, real belly laughs, purely because of how good it felt. It probably wasn't really all that funny, but he couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd last laughed.

Finally, he noticed Max staring at him in shock. She hesitantly reached over and poked his side, confirming that he was real. "It…it makes _noise_." Her jaw dropped.

He glared at her, his laughter dying out. She stuck her tongue out at him. "Sorry, I just didn't think it was possible."

He shrugged, and then nodded towards the laptop, indicating that they should keep working. She sighed, conceding.

Mrs. Allgood picked that moment to walk out into the living room, armed with a plate full of hot, fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookies. Upon seeing the woman again, Max immediately wondered why she hadn't made the connection. They obviously were not related, and were complete polar opposites. Fang was tall and thin, as if he could take flight at any moment, while Mrs. Allgood was more on the short and curvy side. He had black hair, almost black eyes, and a tan complexion; she was blue-eyed, blonde-haired and was white enough to convince people that her skin had never seen sunlight, Or, at least, she could if it weren't for the light freckles dotting her skin.

Then Max saw the cookies, and all thoughts of relations, foster care, and school projects flew out of her mind.

"The book club is meeting here this week, so why don't you two move up into Fang's room? Leave the door open, and no funny business," she looked at Fang and Max sternly, but with a hint of a twinkle in her eyes. "Just remember that I can check in on you two at any moment. And the stairs don't creak; you'll never hear me coming."

Max nodded quickly and said, "Yes ma'am!" before grabbing her backpack and lugging it over to the stairs. She looked back to see Fang peering at her questioningly, the plate of cookies in his hand, and she read the question in his eyes. If she were to stop and think about it, it was almost weird how well she knew Fang after only two weeks.

He was asking her how she knew his room would be upstairs. She shrugged and tossed a "Lucky guess" over her shoulder before heading up the staircase. Honestly, it wasn't so much a lucky guess as it was an educated one. She saw something in Fang that she recognized in herself-a desire to escape, to fly away. So she figured that his room was probably as close to the sky as one could get.

And she was right. His room was at the top of the house, on the third floor (which meant that she pretty much fulfilled her excersize quota for the next _month),_ and it had a _balcony._ Not one of those mini, cheap ones, but a real, fancy, fairytale balcony.

The rest of his room was mostly black though, which didn't surprise Max, considering that that was the only color Fang ever wore. He had very few furnishings; just a large bed, a dresser, a TV and a TV stand, and a desk with a bunch of papers strewn across it.

Then Max saw the walls. Tons of papers were pinned there, each with a different drawing. The older ones mostly were of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled Fang. She guessed that they were probably his parents. As the drawings were done in pencil, she could only guess at the color of their eyes or hair, but she could see that the woman was beautiful, with a sweet smile. The man was a bit rugged and gruff looking, someone that you might be afraid of in an alley, but even through a drawing you could see the kind twinkle in his eyes that gave him away as a large teddy bear. Fang had gotten all of his tallness and dark complexion from his father, and his thin lankiness from his mother.

The newer, more recent ones were all of a little girl, though. She was portrayed in all sorts of different situations; laughing, crying, obviously angry… the child had a killer death glare. She felt a jolt as she looked at those pictures, positive that she knew this little girl. She just couldn't place her.

Then Max saw a picture of the girl standing next to a boy. They had their arms thrown carelessly around each other's shoulders, and both were smiling wide, gap-toothed smiles. They couldn't have been more than seven. Max's head started to hurt as she stared at the picture, and she gasped as her vision went black and turned inwards.

_The girl was seven years old today, and she was very excited because her best friend would not turn seven for four more months. She loved to tease him about that. _

_ She raced over to the swing set, dirty blonde hair flying out behind her, and looked down at the dark-eyed boy sitting on the swing. He raised an eyebrow at her; even as a six-almost-seven year old he was very quiet and reserved. Only the girl could ever get him to open up._

_ "Hey," she said, grinning widely. "Know what today is?"_

_ He put his hand to his chin, stroking his imaginary beard. "Uhhh… Friday?" He replied, teasing her. _

_ The girl sighed. "Well, yeah, but it's also my birthday silly! Know how old I am?"_

_ He threw her a sarcastic look, throwing his arms in he air. "No Max, I don't. We've only been best friends for forever!"_

_ "Well, come on! My mom wants to take pictures of us before I open presents and eat cake. I don't see what the point is, but oh well. And Alex, please don't blow out my candles this year?"_

_ He grinned at her and slung his arm around her thin shoulders. "But it's so much fun!"_

When her vision cleared, Max found herself sitting upright on Fang's bed, her head in her hands and her breaths coming in gasps. She looked up to see Fang staring at her worriedly, his hair standing on end, as if he'd been running his hands through it and pulling at it like he always did when he was really upset about something.

_How did she know that?_

Max pushed that thought to the back of her mind, unable to handle any more confusing things. She watched as he signed to her. _Are you okay? What was that about?_ He "said". "I'm okay," she answered with a reassuring smile that she didn't feel, before hurriedly standing up, grabbing onto Fang's arm to steady herself as her vision got spotty again. She grabbed her backpack. "You can come over tomorrow and we'll work on the project a bit more. But I'm going home now, I don't feel very well."

Fang nodded, understanding. He signed a question to her, asking if she wanted him to walk her home.

Max smiled, but shook her head. "No, I'll make it. Thanks though."

Fang nodded again, slowly.

Truthfully, Max hadn't wanted Fang to come along because she needed to think about this… vision…she'd just experienced. She remembered it in vivid detail. Especially the part where the boy called the girl _Max_, and _Max _called the boy _Alex. _Last she knew, Alex was _Fang's _real name.

What did all of this mean? Could all of this be connected to her dreams/nightmares? To Angel, whoever she was?

What was happening to her?

* * *

_** A/N **_**Dun dun duuuuuuun!**

**What'd you guys think? Pretty okay? I've got the whole story up until chapter 11ish figured out now, so chapters should be coming faster :D**

**Story rec for this week: _Dancing on Icicles _by Kimsa Ki-Lurria.**

**REMEMBER: Reviews=Inspiration, Inspiration=Updates! :D**


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N Ladies and Gentlemen! I present: Chapter 6! I know, a month late, but life is just a crazy, hectic thing to be a part of and, unfortunately, we don't really have the choice to hide out in our rooms and be anti-social with a laptop and a never-ending carton of Cookies-and-Cream ice cream Dx Life would be so wonderful...**_

_**Anyways, I decided to try something new and do first person point of view-I know I'm totally changing it up, but I find third person hard to write. But if you guys read this chapter and decide that you like third person better, review and tell me so and I'll change it back :D Or, you know, review and tell me you like it this way. Either way... reviews are brilliant! :D**_

_**I'm pretty sure my chapter titles are getting progressively longer o.O**_

_**Disclaimer: I wish, but no Dx**_

* * *

_**Chapter 6: Secrets, Lies, and Monsters in the Closet (Or Dresser)  
**_

**MAX POV**

Have you ever had that feeling, the kind that makes the hair on the back of your neck prickle and your stomach fill with anxiety? Where you know something big is about to happen, but you can't for the life of you figure out what? It was that kind of feeling that filled my chest as I walked home from Fang's house.

I didn't know what had happened to me back there. The-vision? Whatever it was-had felt almost familiar, like a memory. But I didn't remember my seventh birthday like that.

Come to think of it, I barely remembered my seventh birthday at all. It was mostly a blur-I knew I went somewhere with some friends (or was it family?) and we did something fun, but I couldn't recall anything more than that. I decided not to overthink it.

Once I got home, I immediately went to my room and collapsed on my bed. I was exhausted, but I hadn't even done very much that day. I had a raging headache, but then again, I always did.

I knew that if I slept then, I wouldn't sleep that night, so I grudgingly hauled myself out of bed and into the hallway. On my right was the guest bedroom, the one no one ever uses. The room kind of creeped me out. In front of me and a little to the left was the main bathroom, basically claimed as mine. And to my left, all the way at the end of the darkly lit hallway, was my mother's room.

She'd told me once, when I was little, to never go in her room, or the monsters that she kept there would get me. At the time I was young enough to believe it, and then once I got older it had become a habit-don't go into Mother's room.

I don't know what made me do it. Maybe after the crazy weirdness of the day, I was a little out of it, or maybe I was looking for answers. Maybe I was just bored and needed something to keep me awake. All I know is, within a few seconds I was quietly opening the door to my mom's room. There was no, "Maybe this isn't a good idea Max" or "You should probably think this over first." No, nothing like that. Just pure impulse; my specialty.

I walked into the dark room, half expecting dramatic, creepy music to start playing. This was the moment in all the horror movies everyone starts screaming at the stupid person on the TV screen to _stay away from the dark room!_

But I never was very good at listening.

I walked over to her closet first. I know, I know- the closet is always where people in movies get killed. But I was in my mom's room, not some soap opera.

I opened the closet door slowly, laughing quietly at the irrational, little kid part of me that was still slightly afraid of monsters. I searched her closet from top to bottom, not knowing what I was looking for but thinking that I'd know if I saw it.

When I found nothing suspicious, I moved on to her desk. It made me want to spill something on it, that's how clean it was. In fact, that's how clean the whole room was. It barely looked as if anyone had ever been there, let alone _lived_ there. I searched her desk, but found nothing save a few bills and some empty notebooks.

That just left her dresser. I felt kind of weird going through my mom's things like a spy of some sort, but I also knew that there was_ something _in this room that was important, _something _that I needed to find.

There was nothing on top of her dresser except for a picture of her and I when I was 5. I'd always hated that picture, though not for any particular reason. It just looked… _off _to me. Call me crazy.

When I opened the first drawer, I immediately closed it again. It was full of undergarments and socks, nothing that I especially wanted to be digging through. I moved on. The second drawer was all shirts and tank tops. It revealed nothing of importance, unless you happen to really like Beatles t-shirts. Which my mom did.

The third drawer was the same as the second, except full of pants and shorts, as was the last drawer. I even went so far as to search for false bottoms, but to no avail.

That just left the first drawer. Much as I hated to admit it, it made sense that a person would hide important things in a place no one would want to look. So, arming myself with two latex gloves that for some reason she had in a box next to her bed, I searched her first drawer.

Nothing. Absolutely _nothing._

I almost screamed. It was just so _frustrating_. There had to be something there, there was nowhere else to look and, whatever it was, it was _in this room._ Call it what you will, instinct, a gut-feeling, insanity, but I was sure. I'd grown up with this sixth sense of sorts, and I'd learned not to ignore it.

I searched the drawer again. And again. And then again, discarding the gloves. And right when I was about to give up hope (and probably go bang my head against a wall a couple of times), I felt it.

_A false bottom._

I indulged myself in a little victory dance for being such a good little spy, and then I carefully pulled out all of her underclothes and opened up the false drawer.

The first thing I saw was a large manila envelope with my picture on it. Seeing as how it had my picture on it and was obviously about me, I didn't feel the least bit guilty when I grabbed it and immediately opened it up and pulled papers out.

Words jumped out at me, words like _experiment _and _test subject_. At first I didn't understand. But slowly, as I read more of the very official looking documents in my hands, realization dawned on me. After that, it was just a matter of overcoming denial. I mean, this was my _mother. _ Of course she couldn't be involved in this, this testing and experimenting of a child, her daughter, her own _flesh and blood_. Right?

_Right?_

I turned back to the documents, trying not to feel anything. _ Just focus on the facts, Max. _I took a deep breath. According to what I'd read, I was an experiment of some sort. Something like two percent avian DNA and the rest was human. This had, apparently, been done to me after I had been born, and that the changes had to be triggered by something. Age, the paper had said- when the experiment reached a certain age, predetermined by the creators of said experiment, he or she would begin to feel the effects of their mixed DNA. It would happen very quickly, apparently.

I shook my head in disbelief. Mixed DNA? I was a _hybrid? _Avian-American?

What kind of sick-minded people would do that to a child? A _baby?_

I read on. "_Subject A.G.E #0001 was held in our laboratories until the age of four, when it, along with three other experiments, escaped. It and one other experiment were found three and a half years later, when the youngest experiment, Subject A.G.E #0006, was taken from the laboratory and traced back to Subject A.G.E #0001 and Subject A.G.E #0002. Jeb Batchelder and Valencia Martinez were found to be the culprits in all escape endeavors, and were punished accordingly. The experiments once again disappeared."_

Martinez. Was that why I'd had such a strong reaction to that name when Fang "said" it?

_ "Two years later, Subject A.G.E #0001 was found and transferred into the protective custody of one of our most trusted scientists. Subject A.G.E #0002 was also found, but it was decided that it should be put into a different, but still controlled, environment, as a long-lasting test of sorts. Subject A.G.E #0002's parental figures were disposed of, and it was placed into foster care. The whereabouts of Subjects A.G.E #0003 and 0004 are still unknown, and Subjects A.G.E #0005 and 0006 are being held in Itex facilities for further testing."_

I felt my breath coming in short gasps, my chest closing in. I was hyperventilating. I forced myself to take a deep breath and calm down, knowing I had to keep it together, had to find out more. Who were the other four experiments? Apparently, at least I and the second one were found and kept in the custody of scientists. Where were those other two?

And what about 5 and 6? How horrible must their lives be, held in that facility?

And why didn't I remember any of this?! What had they done to my mind? I instantly felt violated and my breathing sped up in anger.

Then, my breath stopped in my chest altogether as another thought occurred to me. _Did that mean that my mother was one of these scientists?! _And one of the most trusted ones, at that!

I couldn't process that. My mind just would not comprehend.

I started searching for information about the second subject, a name, a location, _anything. _I got all the other papers out of the drawer and spread them out on the floor all around me. Before I could find anything out, however, I heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. I instantly froze in terror as I realized what that could only mean.

"_Mother" was home._

* * *

**FANG'S POV**

After Max left, looking rather pale and sick, I collapsed onto the bed. I threw my arm over my eyes, shutting out the light.

What _was _that? I left her alone for barely two minutes, and she goes and practically has a seizure on the bed!

Alright, so there was no seizing involved. But still!

I laid my arm back against the black comforter and stared at the drawings on the wall. My drawings. They were the only things in this room I could legitimately call my own. That's why I hung them everywhere-so that the room felt more like home.

What about them had caused such a reaction in Max? I'd come into the room in time to see her staring one, shock and disbelief roiling in her glazed over eyes. That was just before she'd stumbled back onto the bed, holding her head in her hands and breathing like she was going to have an asthma attack. Not for the first time, I wished that I had the will to speak. Life would be so much easier.

It _had _been the pictures that caused whatever had happened to Max, though. That was a place to start. I heaved myself out of the bed and started carefully taking down all the drawings, one by one. Once I'd gotten them all down-I hadn't quite realized how many of them there were! - I spread them all out on the floor around me. There had to be something here, _something_ to connect all the mystery shrouding Maxine Rivera. And I intended to figure out what it was.

* * *

_**A/N Oi! Drama, drama... **_

_**So, the truth comes out! Well, parts of it. Bits and pieces. :3**_

_**...I actually don't have anything to talk about. That's like, a once in a lifetime occurrence o.O**_

_**Oh! Story rec: Ten Ways To Know You're Alive by Kimsa Ki-Lurria**_

_**Remember-reviews are the equivalent of inspiration and make me feel loved :D**_


End file.
